On the morning after the Welcoming Feast, when classes usually started, every student in the Great Hall wore dressed robes. Only a handful of students touched the food set out on the tables, and almost every face was sad looking; a low murmur echoed throughout the Hall.

As soon as Dumbledore stood up, all of the conversations that had been going on ceased. "It is time," Dumbledore said, his bright blue eyes scanning the Great Hall. "Please follow your Heads of Houses down to the Grounds."

Without another word, Dumbledore walked down the middle isle in the Hall, with deep purple robes billowing out behind him.

Reluctantly, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny stood up and followed Professor McGonagall out to the Grounds. The three of them glanced over to the left and notice that Snape was leading a slightly smaller than normal group of Slytherins outside; all of them noticed that Draco and his cronies seemed to be missing.

Professor directed the Gryffindors towards the edge of the Lake, where white chairs stood in many straight rows. Ron sat in the front row, with Ginny and Hermione taking a seat on either side of him; he wrapped a protective arm around each of them.

Ginny twisted in her seat, looking at the sheer amount of people who had gathered for Harry's memorial service. The students of Hogwarts had filled into the first few rows, with Harry's closest friends and the teaching staff of Hogwarts in the first row. Many of the witches and wizards in the rows beyond where Hogwarts students sat Ginny didn't know; however, the majority of them looked miserable. Thankfully, Ginny didn't see Rita Skeeter; Hermione had told her and Ron about Rita Skeeter being an Animigius at the end of last term.

Ginny sat on the edge of her row, but as she turned around, she saw that her other brothers and her parents were sitting on Hermione's opposite side. Ginny pulled her robes tighter as a bitter wind whipped through the crowd.

The crowd stood as Dumbledore walked forward to a small podium that stood on a raised stage. An empty tomb was placed to the right of Dumbledore, with flowers surrounding it.

Tears from Hermione's eyes had begun falling right before Dumbledore came forward to make his speech. As the crowd stood, Ron wrapped both of his arms around Hermione, letting her bury her head in his chest; Ginny began crying soon after.

After the service for Harry, the Weasley children and Hermione bade the eldest Weasley brothers and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley a tearful good-bye.

Once Ginny's parents had left, she went up to Gryffindor tower and sat in the common room in silence. A group of her fourth-year friends dragged her down to the Great Hall and forced her to eat something at dinner, and tired hopelessly to cheer her up. At seven o'clock, Ginny went up to bed, but didn't fall asleep until the early hours of the morning.

Soon Hermione and Ron were the last two in the Gryffindor common room. After the only other Gryffindor in the room (a tired—looking sixth year) left, Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

"Ron, it's after midnight, and we've got classes tomorrow," Hermione stated, yawning as she stood up. "We should go to bed now."

"Yeah, I suppose we should," Ron replied, looking somewhat reluctant at the idea of leaving the common room. "Maybe tomorrow something will—" Ron added as he walked towards the staircase that lead to the boys' dorms, looking hopeful.

"Yes," Hermione replied, nodding, looking as though she didn't want to get her hopes up too much.

A silence fell between them; after a minute or so, Hermione began walking towards the girls' dormitories. "Well, good night, then, Ron," she said.

"Good night, Hermione," Ron responded, before turning and climbing up the staircase.

Hermione turned away after watching as Ron climbed the stairs. She entered her dark dormitory and quietly shut the door behind her. Quickly she changed out of her robes and into a nightgown.

As she climbed into bed, memories from the days' events engulfed her. She pictured the hundreds of people gathered near the lake, all in dress robes. Hermione remembered the feeling of hopelessness that had filled her body, and the salty tears that had fallen down her face. She thought of sitting in the silent common room, surrounded by Gryffindors and Dumbledore's speech at the memorial service, which she could barely bear to listen too. The same feeling of frustration that everyone else seemed to be giving up on Harry passed over her again as she lay in bed. As thoughts of Ron holding on to her, and letting her cry on his shoulder, soaking his new dress robes passed through her mind, she blushed slightly. To her, having feelings for Ron seemed to be an insult to Harry; after all, the pair of them had been going out before he'd disappeared.

After tossing and turning around for hours, Hermione eventually drifted off into a restless sleep.

Hermione found herself outside, surrounded by miles and miles of dark green trees. The ground beneath her feet was rocky, and she stood near the edge of a sheer, steep cliff that plummeted down for hundreds of feet. Above her, the sky was dark grey and the air smelled of rain. To Hermione's right stood a dark brown, wooden cabin.

Hermione looked over her shoulder before cautiously stepping onto the rickety wrap-around porch and pushing open the wooden door. Glancing around the room she had just stepped into, she saw that shades had been pulled down over all of the windows, flooding the room with a never-ending darkness. No candles lit the room, so Hermione slowly walked across the room, so that none of the floorboards creaked beneath her.

On the other side of room, Hermione decided to climb the set of stairs that sat to her right instead of continuing on into the rooms on the ground floor through the doorway.

At the top of the landing, Hermione found another hallway that she followed until she came across a door that was ajar. Vigilantly, Hermione pushed open the door and walked inside.

The room inside was dark and gloomy, as was the entire cabin, and quite large. Diagonally across from the door, a figure lay in the corner. Hermione approached slowly, hoping with all her might that the figure on the floor wasn't who she thought it was.

With a drop of her stomach, Hermione realized who the figure was when she was halfway across the room. She didn't think that her best friend, Harry Potter, could look even paler and thinner than the last time she had seen him in the cave, yet he did.

"Harry," she hissed, resting a hand on his bony shoulder. "Harry, wake up!"

The boy's eyes fluttered open and immediately widened. "Hermione!"

"Harry, I've to get out of here," Hermione cried. "If you get up, I can help you out of here—"

"Hermione," Harry replied, in a hoarse voice, "you can't help me now. And even if you could, we couldn't get out of here; the forest outside goes for miles and miles. We'd never escape without Apparating or something magical—nothing we could ever do."

"But Harry—"

"No, Hermione," Harry said. "You've got to listen to me. The Death Eaters are trying to use me to get to you. You aren't safe here—you need to get out now, before something happens. Once they've got you, their plan will work. They'll kill me and you after they're done with you, they'll kill you too. Voldemort knows of ancient magic that can help him become even stronger than he already is and they need you. You mustn't let yourself get caught."

"But Harry, why me?" Hermione asked, bewildered.

"I'm not sure, exactly," responded Harry, looking worried, "but it's got to be of some connection between us. Don't worry about me, okay? I'll be fine—as long they don't have you, I'll be fine."

"Harry—"

"Hermione, there are others way to help me. Just get yourself out of here—"

At the sound of footsteps on the stairs, both of them immediately fell silent. "Hermione, you've got to hide!" cried Harry.

Hermione looked around frantically, looking for a place where no one would see her. Within seconds, she spotted a closet and hurried into it, peering through a crack in the door.

"Well, Mr. Potter," said Bellatrix Lestrange as she walked into the room, "who where you talking too? I heard voices."

"No one," Harry lied, staring at Bellatrix.

Bellatrix stared back at Harry. "You're lying," she spat. "Tell me the truth. Who were you talking to?"

"No one," Harry lied again. "There was no one here."

"Tell me the truth, Potter, or I start using my wand," Bellatrix snarled, pulling her wand from the pocket of her robes. "Perhaps your little Mudblood friend Granger was here, and you were telling her that she was danger," Bellatrix suggested, smirking.

Hermione gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. She thought that she saw a flicker of surprise flash across Harry's eyes.

"Yes, Potter, I do know more than you think I do," Bellatrix sneered. "Now, are you prepared to tell me where she is?"

"I'll never tell," Harry spat.

"Very well," Bellatrix said, raising her wand. "CRUCIO!"

Hermione watched her best friend cower in pain on the floor; his screams rang loudly through her ears along with her own.

Hermione woke up with tears streaming done her face and sweating. She had jumped out of the bed and walked to the dormitory door before her eyes had adjusted to the light, but she didn't care if she tripped over anything right now. She was tired of these dreams about he best friend and boyfriend being tortured. Hermione was sick of missing Harry terribly, yet doing nothing about it.

Within seconds, Hermione had reached the 4th year Girls' Dormitories.

"Ginny!" she hissed, hoping that she had found the right bed in the dark. "I need you to help me."

"What's going on?" the red-head asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. "Hermione, why are you crying?" Ginny added, becoming more alert almost at once.

Before Hermione knew was happening, Ron had been woken up and told of Hormone's latest dream in the Gryffindor common room. Professor McGonagall showed up soon after, but Hermione had no recollection of who retrieved her.

Fortunately for Hermione, she was not forced to relieve what had happened to Professor McGonagall until after she was dragged up to Dumbledore's office.

"Miss Granger, please tell us what was happened," McGonagall said as she conjured up four dark wooden chairs.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione began, "Since term ended last Junes, I've been having these—well—these nightmares about—with Harry in them…"

For the next half hour, Hermione spoke in silence as she relived each and every dream she had, and every detail she could remember. When she had finished, she broke down sobbing harder than she had ever cried.

"Very well, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. "Thank you for sharing these dreams with me. I hope you will do me one more favor before I let you return to Gryffindor Tower."

Hermione looked up at Dumbledore curiously. What else could he possibly want me to do?

"I was hoping that you would agree to empty the dreams into this bowl," Dumbledore explained, pulling a bowl filled with a silvery liquid from a cupboard.

Hermione nodded at Dumbledore wearily. "Of course, Professor."

"This is called a Pensive," Dumbledore said. "It holds memories and allows one to look at things from a different point of view. All you have to do is think of the dream you'd like to put in here, Miss Granger, put your wand on your temple, and put it into the bowl."

"Thank you very much, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said once Hermione had finished. "You did the right thing tonight. Miss Weasley and Mr. Weasley, can I ask you to escort Miss Granger back to the common room? I will inform all of any further information I find."

Ron and Ginny nodded at Dumbledore before turning and leaving his office.

"This is all my fault," Hermione moaned once the three of them were sitting in the dark common room. "I should've said something sooner."

"No, Hermione, it's not your fault," Ron replied, wrapping an arm around her. "You can't help it that you had these dreams."

"And we didn't exactly force you to tell anyone about them either," Ginny added miserably, looking down.

"But you tried to, Ginny," Hermione protested, wiping away her tears.

"I know, I should've done more," said Ginny.

"But if I'd told sooner, we might've found Harry, and there wouldn't have been a memorial service for him, and he'd be here with us right now," Hermione said.

"Look, we can argue about this forever, or we can just drop it," said Ron. "Hermione, it's not all your fault, and it never will be. You're going to drive yourself mad if you keep this up."

Hermione didn't say anything, and instead rested her head on Ron's shoulder, a few tears still falling from her eyes.